A Worthy Opponent
by Dummypotato
Summary: This is a small story of a duel between Master Yi and Fiora. Not much to it, just something I wrote on a whim. Who will win? Probably the Dunkmaster of Nooblords, but we'll see! This is A Worthy Opponent.


**(Oh hello. I decided I'm gonna branch out of Piltover, this one isn't gonna be too long. Plus I felt like paying homage to one of my favorite champions, Fiora. Yeah yeah, she's trash, sue me.)**

**_A Worthy Opponent_  
**

The air was dry, so dry. It tasted of exhaustion, and sweat. Her hair fell in short strands down the left side of her face, tipped in red. Her lips were dry and her limbs were sore, for this was definitely one of the more physically demanding duels she had been in. Her eyes were turned to the ground, which was an orange-red color, like clay. The ground was dry and there was no sign of civilization in sight. Her sword was buried into the dirt to support her. The woman in question was Fiora Laurent, only one of the best duelists in Demacia, and she was intent on keeping that reputation. Fiora was on one knee out of pure exhaustion, but she was not going to give up. She lifted her head to look at her opponent, she was greeted by a vision shrouded in heat. The heat covered her vision, but only slightly. Fiora could make out her opponent still. He bore the colors of yellow and silver, he had a beard that was braided, and extended down his chest. He was a thin man, but that was all a mirage like the barren wasteland they were dueling in. His goggles were intricate, and made with a techmaturgical sense and only the greatest of minds. It had seven lenses which allowed her opponent to see beyond what normal beings can see. He breathed steadily, and with a calmness about him. She hated that, Fiora wanted to teach this man to feel the extent of his abilities. Like all honorable duels, Fiora allowed momentary breaks for water and other such things. She had a glass jar just for this purpose. Fiora reached for the jar and took a small drink, just to quench her thirst and wet her lips. She then strode over to her sword still buried and retrieved it. She now held it in front of her, to face her opponent. Master Yi.

Yi was thrilled to be here, to spar with one of the finest swordsmen in Demacia. He sensed her readiness to practice her arts, and saw how she readied her blade. There was not much the Wuju Master could not see, and he was eager to show it. His blade sung swiftly through the air the times before when Fiora and he had sparred. He sent a hand down to stroke his beard and readied himself. His sword's rings had rattled only slightly, before settling. His emotions were not shown and his will to battle was only all to visible. He heard her voice shouting at him in a heavy Demacian accent to begin. He took a sharp breath and prepared for battle. She lunged at him, intent on making contact, to which he easily slapped aside with the flat of his sword. He countered with a downward strike of his sword, only for it to be met by steel. Fiora's blade rose to meet his, and soon enough his weight was thrown to the side and she thrust her blade forward to meet air. Yi had darted his head to the side to dodge. The tip of her sword would have met Yi's neck if he had not done otherwise. He smirked and shoved Fiora aside. He was a master of balance, but even that was uncomfortable, so he felt as if he must get Fiora out of the area of lethality. Fiora bared her teeth and prepared for another engagement, in which she lunged, then feinted downwards, spun to her right, and thrust her sword on his left flank. Yi had dodged to his right, and was now exposed to a thrust that was being brought upon his left flank. To avoid this. Yi jumped and kicked her sword down and landed rather gracefully on his feet. Fiora on the other hand, had her sword arm thrown downwards. She hated this, she could not touch him, and he would hardly strike back. She stood straight and calmed her nerves. She had something to prove, not only to herself, but to Yi, and to her father.

Fiora had an idea, press the attack and never allow Yi to get a moment's respite. She wanted to force Yi to fight back and exploit any weaknesses he showed. She smirked and was sure of herself that she liked this idea. She dug her boot into the ground and gritted her teeth. Her eyelids closed slightly, and chest rose and fell at the pace of her breath. Her lips remained tightly shut, and were teasingly so. She thought of her father, and her duel with him. She remembered how his poise and grace had all been crushed by pride, and no strive to become better. Namely the latter of the two. Pride was a key factor in dueling, Fiora thought. Pride led you to become better, to ensure your words are not vague, and ill justified. She hated nothing more than an unrefined duel, and duels that required no skill. She strove to defeat only the best of swordsman, and maybe in her lifetime, duel the legendary Grandmaster at Arms. She only wished that she could face these great warriors. She thought more of her reputation if she were to win this duel. All she has to do, is disarm Master Yi and score a strike. She thought of what she was to do if she defeated Master Yi. Would she go on to face even more legendary opponents, such as Riven, and Katarina? What of the rumors she heard of the warrior from Mount Targon, Diana? The one who was exiled by her own tribe of the Solari. Her eyes were now closed at the mental process of this. She breathed in the air that was still dry and stung her throat. She continued her respite and her fantasies of dueling only the finest. It all started with this single moment, this single duel. This single assault. Her reputation would be purged, and all ill words of the subject would be silenced. It all ended as one word kept repeating in her mind, in the beat of her pulse. Pride.

Fiora's eyes shot open and charged Yi, who had steeled himself. She spun left and swung her sword to the right, only to feint and drop to a knee and thrust upwards. Naturally, Yi dodged and swung his sword to attempt a defense, but Fiora predicted his movements and withdrew her sword. She dashed left and turned on her heels and thrust right. Yi, once again, maneuvered out of the way and, she followed up with a slash following his body, so Yi could guard. Once steel met steel, she darted back and charged once more. She predicted a horizontal slash to stop her charge, but Yi did not follow her prediction. He sidestepped to his left and slashed upwards. Fiora, was caught off guard and had to scramble to a stop. She dug the tip of her blade into the gravel and came to a halt. Fiora glanced at Yi and recomposed her posture. Yi's sword now stood straight out in front of him, reminiscent of his Ionian culture. In a pose that a Ionian soldier would take wielding his katana, Yi now stood. Fiora had took her stance and pressed the tip of her blade into the flat of Yi's. They circled each other and awaited a moment to capitalize on a fatal movement the other made. Yi took the offensive after a few minutes of circling and waiting. He sent a flurry of slashes towards Fiora who had defended with such beauty. She had added her own boastful grace to it. She spun and guarded. She knelt and guarded. She closed the gap and guarded. All of this to get into the mind of her opponent, Yi, who had seemed to press the offense with a unnerving calmness. She had felt no emotion to this. Throughout all of the defending Fiora was doing, she had noticed that Yi favors the downwards slash. She would exploit the next attack of the sort. Fiora was now waiting patiently for that crucial moment, which seemed never to come. He seemed to know of her coup to thwart his unstoppable onslaught of defeating Fiora (and dunking Nooblords). Finally, as if his suspicions of her coup d'etat were silenced, he slashed downwards. Fiora smirked, and dug the tip of her boot into the gravel. She took a small step back, and awaited it's impact. Down went his steel. Down to his inevitable defeat. He slashed downwards and it was parried off to the side and out of his fingers, by a nimble blade. His eyes went to his sword in disbelief and when he faced Fiora once more, her blade pressed gently into his neck. Not stabbing, but scoring a strike. He had lost.

"Poor form." she chuckled. Her reputation was now cleared.

**(So, this is my first test run at writing some sort of action scene for the upcoming Jinx story. I wanted to give it a shot, because I didn't want to go into the whole action thing blind. Let me know what you think about it, and I'll try my hardest to get Chapter 6 for _Vault Breaker_ up. It's going a bit slow due to procrastination, but it'll get there in time. Anyhow. See you guys later.)**


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